Family Values
by CassieCastle47
Summary: "I'm rather fond of those elephants. They have good family values." What if Castle had dropped Beckett's elephants in 6x08, "A Murder Is Forever"?


**A/N: What if, during 6x08, "A Murder Is Forever", Castle had dropped the elephants? Remember that scene when Castle and Beckett were squabbling over Linus and Castle says he's going to put Beckett's elephants in the drawer? Well, "Veritas" made me wonder what would've happened has they found the recording then.**

"If you don't like the elephants, I don't like the elephants," Beckett said sweetly, forcing herself not to laugh at the look on her fiance's face. He sighed and moved to put the elephants back on her desk.

"Actually, I'm rather fond of the elephants," he said. "They have good family values."

As he went to put the ceramic animals back on the wooden surface, his hand slipped and Beckett's elephants fell to the worn floor with a clatter. Castle's eyes widened almost comically, and he looked at Kate, his expression already apologetic.

"Kate, I'm so sorry," he began. She rested her hand on his knee. It pained her sometimes to know that there were areas where he was still so insecure with her. Her things, for example. If he broke something or messed up, he always apologized, and his eyes betrayed the fear that she would be angry with him. She smiled gently.

"Shh," she soothed. "It's okay, Castle. It's fine, I promise." She knelt to pick up the pieces of the elephant figurine.

"See?" she said, holding it up to show him that it had only broken in two pieces, one of the elephants having broken off with a clean line. "It's easy to fix, Castle. Not a big deal at all." As she moved to stand up, she caught sight of something lying on the floor, partially hidden under her desk. Frowning, she reached for it, her slender fingers closing around something small, plastic, and rectangular. When she retracted her hand, she came up with a small cassette tape. She and Castle exchanged puzzled looks.

"Huh," she said.

"Where'd that come from?" he asked. Kate frowned, her eyes flickering to the broken elephants.

"I think it came from the elephant," she said, examining the clean break in the ceramic.

"Yo, Beckett, we got something," Esposito called. Kate stowed the tape in the drawer of her desk and got back to work.

"Castle," Kate called. He appeared in the office doorway. "Do you want to hear the tape?" she asked. He nodded as she slid it into the player. She took a breath as she sat next to her.

"Did you know that those elephants were my mom's?" she asked. Castle shook his head, sensing the monumental importance of this moment.

"Before she died, those elephants sat on her desk," Kate explained. "Which is why they've always sat on mine." Castle nodded and she met his eyes.

"I don't know what's on this tape, Rick," she said seriously. "But if it's the next piece of the puzzle, you know I'm going to have to go after it." She paused and took his hand.

"Babe, I can't ask you to stick around for that. I can't ask you to put yourself in danger for my cause."

"Kate," he sighed softly. "Honey, you don't have to ask. I'm not going anywhere, no matter what's on that tape." There was a silent moment, the tension in the room tangible before Kate pressed play. They listened in quiet anticipation to the crackling static.

When Roy Montgomery's voice reached their ears, Castle and Beckett both froze. They listened as Bracken mentioned the fact that he could pin the so-called gang crime on Montgomery and the other cops. When Bracken mentioned "that bitch lawyer Johanna Beckett", Kate's hand tightened around Rick's.

The recording ended with a click and Castle and Beckett turned to one another, both of them fully aware of the impact of the evidence they now held.

"Oh, my god, Kate," Castle breathed. "This is it. This is all you need. This is solid proof, Beckett. You can take him down with this." She stared at him. Then, she suddenly launched herself into his arms. He caught her easily, holding her tight as her body sagged with relief.

"It's over," he whispered, again and again.

"It's over."


End file.
